Professor Wells grunted. “If enough of them get bored and leave early, there’ll be no shortage of seats.”
“That’s true, but it’s hardly the solution we want.”
“I know, Dana. We really need that new building. Of course, don’t hold your breath. If the trustees have their way, there’ll be a new stadium first, and then a basketball arena, and then—”
Dana was having trouble concentrating. She realized suddenly that even with her back turned she knew exactly where in the room Zeke was at any given moment. The hairs at the nape of Dana’s neck seemed to be acting as a sort of compass, with Zeke being true north. It didn’t help that Barclay seemed to be showing him off, making the rounds of the room in order to introduce him to everyone.
She finally gave up on making sense of the conversation and told Professor Wells she’d phone her the next day to get the list of people who had volunteered to serve as question-readers and judges for the academic bowl. Instantly her internal radar seemed to relax a bit, but as soon as she turned her attention back to the room, she saw why.
Zeke was leaving. He was already in the entrance hall, with Barclay beside him, obviously almost pleading with him to stay a little longer. She watched as Zeke shook his head and went out.
He had been there less than half an hour, but that short space of time had thrown Dana into the worst emotional turmoil she’d felt since their divorce. And now he was escaping without giving her any justification at all for his behavior.
Which was pretty much par for the course where Zeke was concerned.
Barclay closed the door behind him and came straight across the drawing room to Dana. He looked, she thought warily, as if he’d like to kick the nearest alumnus. She braced herself. How was she going to explain that incredible announcement of Zeke’s when she had no idea herself what he’d been talking about?
“You could have told me you knew him.” It sounded like an accusation.
“There was no reason to. It was back in the dark ages.”
“The timing doesn’t matter.”
“Look,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You must realize you took me by surprise earlier this evening. If we’d been dating, of course I would have told you I’d been married before. But it’s not something I announce when I’m first introduced to someone, so—”
Barclay waved a hand, dismissing her concern. “I wasn’t talking about that.”
Dana almost choked. “Then what are you talking about?”
“You could at least have filled me in about his history,” he said impatiently. “Warned me about that kooky sense of humor…you mean you really were married to him?”
Dana nodded. “For about three months.”
“Oh. Well, that’s nothing.”
Nothing, Dana thought. But did he mean that her short-lived marriage was unimportant because it had no implications for her current decisions, or because finding out about it had changed his mind about the offer he’d made?
Not that it altered her feelings about Barclay in the least, but it would be convenient to know whether she was still supposed to be considering his proposal. Why waste time trying to find a way to let him down gently, if he had decided she wasn’t suitable marriage material after all?
Barclay sounded aggrieved. “You could at least have suggested the best way to approach him.”
As if he were a rattlesnake, Dana thought. “You want my advice on how to get a donation out of Zeke Ferris? Sorry, but I have no idea how to persuade the man to part with his money, because when I knew him he didn’t have any. I’m the one who paid for the divorce.”
The divorce I didn’t get after all…She told herself firmly not to leap to conclusions. Just because Zeke had said something didn’t make it true. Maybe Barclay was right, and Zeke had intended it as a sort of practical joke. Then, as soon as he’d realized that she didn’t find it amusing, he’d sloped off rather than take responsibility for a gag gone bad…
But that behavior wasn’t like the Zeke she’d known, either. Dana’s head was starting to pound.
She had never in her life been so glad to see the end of a party. She pitched in to help the caterers clean up, partly so they could all go home sooner, partly because she didn’t want to face another tête-á-tête with Barclay just now—but mostly because as long as she was surrounded by a group of outsiders, Connie couldn’t ask her any questions. And since at the moment she had absolutely no answers…
She kept on working after Connie gave up and left. Finally, when the last members of the catering crew were ready to go, Dana took her raincoat from a hook near the kitchen door and went out with them. The last truck roared away and she was alone.
The dark and gloomy afternoon had given way to a darker and gloomier evening. It wasn’t quite raining, but the air was so heavy with mist that the usual evening sounds were softened and flattened. Her footsteps on the brick driveway didn’t make the usual sharp click, and the creak of the gate as she opened and closed it was unusually muted. The sound of a car engine starting might have come from any direction at all.
She turned toward downtown, to walk the dozen blocks to her little house. Her hands were deep in the pockets of her raincoat and her head was bent against the misty air. She was vaguely aware of a car coming up behind her, but that was nothing new. It would have been more unusual for the streets to be empty at this hour in this neighborhood. Though she felt dead tired, in fact it wasn’t late.
It took her a while to realize that the car was moving too slowly. It should have passed her by now. Was it following her?
She shot a nervous glance over her shoulder and speeded her steps. A Jaguar. If a stalker was after her, she thought, at least he had good taste.
The car crept along beside her for another few yards, then pulled in toward the curb. The passenger-side window opened and a man leaned across the seat to look out at her.
“Want a lift?” Zeke asked.
“I was enjoying my solitude,” Dana pointed out. She kept walking.
The car crept along beside her. “I thought you wanted an explanation.”
She stopped. “Does that mean you’re actually planning to give me one?”
“Get in.” He pushed the door open.
She perched sideways on the seat with the door open and one foot still planted on the street.
“You never used to be the nervous sort,” Zeke said, “but at the moment you look like you’re ready to run. And yet you’re walking home at this hour. The two things don’t fit together somehow.”
“Give it a little thought and I’m sure you can figure out why I’m a bit jittery at the idea of sitting here.” Her voice was dry. “What gives, Zeke?”
“I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. If you don’t want to sit here, let’s go somewhere for dinner.”
“Let’s have that explanation first.”
“I’m too hungry to keep my mind on details.”
“It’s your own fault if you’re hungry. There was food at the party.”
“That’s what you call food? Those dainty little nibbles didn’t even take the edge off. I’ve been sitting here fantasizing about a steak. I had just